Ach Neio Eitha Eka (do not Leave Me)
by wind-up-kitten
Summary: Angela and Islanzadí meet for one last time. Character exploration and trying out romance scenes (my apologies for the terrible writing, I'm a newb). Rated M for a reason. Any input greatly appreciated :) I thought the idea of a romance (obviously since Islanzadí was in a hetero marriage in the books this isn't canon) was interesting. One-shot. Enjoy. -Wyrda


Angela crept up the stairs, weathered roots that protruded from the rich earth, sung from the ground in an age past. Her footsteps tapped on the worn bark, making barely a sound. She reached the top of the flight and paused, surveying the gardens around her. Flowers of all kinds were strewn, contrary to the elves' habit of neatness, across the well-kept garden beds. One in particular caught the herbalist's eye, and she paced towards it. A gust of wind swept up suddenly, and her cloak billowed around her, giving her the look of a shadow come alive. She knelt in front of the blossom, a red and gold circlet of petals surrounding a soft, white center. Hoping the gardeners wouldn't miss it, she cut the stem at the ground, her dagger returning to its sheath almost as soon as it was drawn. Tucking the bloom into her robe, Angela rose, breathing in the sweet evening air. Then, thinking of what she was about to do a blush rose in her cheeks and a smile crept over her face. Being careful to remain quiet, she moved as fast as possible to the jeweled front door of Tildarí hall, Islanzadí's residence. Without knocking, she slipped inside, almost forgetting to shut the opalescent slab behind her in her haste. Out of reach of prying eyes and ears, Angela slowly unbuckled the clasp on her heavy black cloak and pulled it from her shoulders. The unusual black fabric glittered in the candlelight as she draped it across the arms of a nearby chair. She unbuckled her heavy sword belt and tossed it on top of the cloak, the heavy gems on the belt forming hypnotic patterns on the surface of the cloak. Angela watched the shifting lines for a moment, then pulled her eyes away, turning to the stairway in front of her. She drew the flower from her robe and tucked it into her hair, braiding a circlet out of her sleek brown locks, then pulled her hair over her shoulder and smoothed her dress, loosing a quiet sigh as she looked down at her plain red dress. _Unfortunate. I would have preferred something more...interesting._

" _I_ would prefer to see none other than you this night." Islanzadí's imperious voice sounded from the top of the stairwell, a note of playfulness running through her usually businesslike tone. Angela's head whipped up in a blur, the rosy color returning to her speckled cheeks. "And you look ravishing, my lovely child of the night, regardless of the dress." Islanzadí added. The elven queen laughed, leaning against a table that seemed to spring, fully formed, from the floor. Her lithe body rested easily against the wood, the light from the flickering candles casting shadows on her angular face. "If you want you may join me upstairs...I was finalizing some plans." She turned and walked through a doorway, her midnight hair brushing the worn frame as she passed. Angela paused a few moments, then ascended the stairs after her, the sound of her heeled boots echoing in the empty room. As she passed through the same doorway Islanzadí had just disappeared through, she heard singing and paused to listen. The queen's voice trembled with emotion, progressing from sadness and loss into hope and the raw sound of one madly in love. Angela stepped slowly to the door and peered inside. The queen lay on her bed, fingers tangled in her long black hair. Her billowing robe was gone, and she was dressed simply in a tight black dress. She stopped her song as Angela stepped into the room, pausing by the doorway, unsure whether she should enter. Islanzadí stood, crossing to the door and taking Angela by the hand, cupping the witch's frail palm between her own.

"Come with me, child of the night, and you will see that all that is not real can become so in the blink of an eye." Angela stared at the queen's face, her nut-brown skin and shimmering green eyes gleaming catlike in the dimly lit chamber.

She wavered for a moment, then said, "As you wish, partner of heart. Take me to the world of your dreams." Islanzadí grinned, pulling her towards the bed. When they had reached the side of the large, comfortable four-poster, the she dropped Angela's hand an looked over her petite body.

"You most likely will _not_ need that dress, though." Islanzadí said, raising one eyebrow suggestively. She spun Angela by the shoulders and untied the strings holding together the back of the garment, her fingers moving with a dexterity only possessed by the elves. The cords dropped to the floor at the herbalist's feet, and Islanzadí slowly slid her long, manicured fingers below the fabric and over Angela's shoulders, pulling the cloth away from her skin, lighter than Islanzadí's, and marked with freckles that covered her shoulders and crept down to the small of her back. The herbalist pulled her elbows past the bunched fabric and the dress fell to her feet. She turned to face the elf-queen, pulling her hair across her shoulder as she did so.

Islanzadí bit her lip and lowered her head, noting the way Angela's hair draped over her prominent collar bones, which appeared dark and speckled against her pale chest. She raked her eyes over the thin strip of black satin that covered the witch's breasts, then reached down and lifted her own dress, pulling it over her head. Her small silver pendant, given to her by the herbalist so many years ago, bounced against her sternum as it was lifted by the dark cloth. Dropping the gown behind her, she reached out and pulled Angela against herself, their skin meeting in the cool air. She bent her neck down, her lips meeting the herbalist's softly at first, then more intensely as their passion escalated, as if they had both only just realized they were together again at last.

 _It has been far too long, my love._ Islanzadí spoke to her lover through her mind. _But the years have done nothing to diminish you._ She felt the witch's lips twitch into a grin against her own. The motion spurring her on, she pushed her tongue into Angela's mouth, the taste of mint threading itself into her being. Angela seemed surprised at the queen's forwardness for a brief moment, then returned the movement. She breathed in Islanzadí's flavour, the taste of vanilla and the smell of autumn air after a rainstorm. The witch pulled away for a moment, meeting Islanzadí's eyes for a moment before blinking slowly, the blue streaks in her dark brown eyes reflecting what light remained in the room. Unable to resist, the queen leaned forwards and brushed her lips across Angela's eyelids, the witch shivering under her touch. _My dear, you are simply too adorable to be real,_ Islanzadí spoke in her mind.

 _I pale in comparison to you, my queen._ She placed her emphasis on the word "queen", and her intended meaning did not escape Islanzadí. Her head pounded with her heartbeat, the sheer attraction she felt to the woman before her overwhelming her senses. Angela pushed her lightly onto the bed, then jumped atop her prostrate body, straddling her hips sensually. The witch leaned forward, pressing her body against the elf's and kissing the base of her neck. She moved across Islanzadí's shoulders, kissing her way along her collar bones. The elf shivered under her soft touch, bucking her hips into Angela's, pressing herself as close to the witch as possible. Angela kissed her once more on the mouth, then slowly began to untie the cloth covering the elf's small, round breasts. The silk sash loosened, and Angela threw it into the corner of the room, an unimportant intruder in their romance. She slowly sat up, grinding her pelvis into Islanzadí's briefly. The elf moaned with pleasure and grabbed for the witch's waist, brushing her hand along Angela's exposed abdomen. She traced the pattern of the shorter woman's ribs, then dropped her hand as Angela laid her cool, ghostly hands on her uncovered breasts. Her partner ran her palms over her small, tanned breasts, then started to rub her light pink nipples, which stood out in contrast to her smooth, dark brown skin. Islanzadí groaned as a wave of erotic passion passed through her body, and she reached up to pull Angela's head to her chest. Angela did not resist, moving to kiss the unmarked skin around the elf's hardening nipples, teasing her, avoiding the perfect pink area as long as possible before finally placing her mouth over it, licking the nub lightly. Islanzadí squirmed, pulling Angela closer as the witch ran her tongue over the elf's other nipple, causing the raven-haired queen to groan erotically.

Islanzadí sat quickly, making Angela slide down into her lap, then reached around to the witch's back, forcefully untying the small strip of fabric covering the other woman's much larger breasts. She flung the cloth away, then embraced the witch, kissing her greedily, her mouth firm on the brunette's soft, submissive lips. They seemed to melt together as one as they locked lips, each reveling in the other's sharp taste. The two separated, Angela exhaling sharply as her voluptuous breasts slid over Islanzadí's slightly moistened chest, the friction causing her own nipples to harden. Islanzadí clamped her mouth around each of Angela's nipples in turn, rubbing the shorter woman's large areolas with her kitten-like tongue. Angela's eyes went unfocused and she hissed softly through her teeth. Not wanting to wait any longer, the elf pushed her back onto the bed and straddled the witch's hips, the wet fabric of their undergarments the only thing separating their blushed, heated skin. Islanzadí circled her hips, rubbing her covered vagina against Angela's. They both released soft whimpers as the the queen continued the motion, increasing in speed and pressure. Angela reached up, massaging Islanzadí's breasts as the elf began to slow the grinding of her hips. Islanzadí stopped, sliding her body off of her shorter partner, panting from the sheer ecstasy of their physical union. The elf slid down on the bed, placing her majestic head between Angela's toned thighs. She kissed the soft skin of the witch's legs, alternating between them as she drew closer to Angela's soaked lace wrapping. She paused for a moment, then slid two fingers under the top of the garment, pulling it down over the witch's legs. She raised her head once more, focusing her attention on Angela's hot pink vagina. She placed her thumb just above the moist wet slit, then began to slide it down slowly, achingly slowly. The with sucked in her breath as Islanzadí's finger reached her clitoris, the short brush sending a spike of pleasure through her body.

 _Hurry up, damn you!_ Angela complained. Islanzadí was happy to comply. Grinning, she once again began to rub the area around the herbalist's clitoris slowly, then with vigor as she placed the forefinger of her other hand at the base of the shorter woman's warm slit, tracing the outside of the organ, then pushing it inside. Angela cried out, gyrating her hips as Islanzadí began to finger her more quickly, placing pressure on the moist inside of her body. The queen continued, sensing the pressure building until Angela moaned loudly and scrabbled for her hand, holding it against her as she orgasmed, her hips moving uncontrollably for several seconds before she gasped and pushed herself into a seated position, kissing Islanzadí passionately.

They were interrupted by the war-bell's ringing, a sound of reverberating doom that sent shivers down the women's spines. Islanzadí frowned. "I will meet you again, after the campaign is finished. She extricated herself from Angela's embrace awkwardly, hiding her irritation with the timing of the call to battle as best she could.

"I would expect no...less from you, my queen, my love, my life. I will hold you to your word, and when you return from Illeria we will celebrate like never before." Angela stooped to pluck her dress from the floor, pulling her lace underwear back on.

"And I shall fulfill my word." Islanzadí replied. She pulled her lover close once more, brushing her lips against Angela's delicately, their bodies pressed together, then separated, pulling her black shift over her head hurriedly. She strapped her blade to her waist, then ran from the room, leaving Angela standing alone.

 **Angela has never forgiven the gods for allowing the woman that made up the other half of her heart to break her vow, and she hunted Lord Barst's ghost far beyond the edge of madness.**


End file.
